


I Belong To You / Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix

by phangirlingforphan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anniversary, Fluff, M/M, Reality, Romance, just complete and utter cuteness, pure fluff, tw alcohol mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phangirlingforphan/pseuds/phangirlingforphan
Summary: “To us,” Dan says, wine glass raised.Phil raises his own and clinks it with Dan’s in one delicate chime.“To us.”-happy eight years, pals.





	I Belong To You / Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix

The date is a significant one, that will always remain true.

Phil remembers the brakes of the train deafening him as he watched it pull into platform five. He remembers the poker straight hair, gangling limbs tangling with his own, the smell of amber and vanilla musk and the feeling of warmth that pooled in his stomach as he gripped a little tighter to the flannel of Dan’s shirt. Just making sure he was real. 

He supposes that he’s used to the feeling now. That’s not something that fills him with melancholy or a yearning to claw back in time to re-live the moments he recalls with such fondness now, it’s more a satisfaction that he’s gotten used to; contentment for the life he’s got and the person he spends it with.

Every year the date comes and in the earlier years they would celebrate a little more excitedly than they perhaps do now. Before it’d be a card, a bunch of yellow roses and a dinner date. One year they travelled to Manchester to their old haunts, reminiscing and drinking up that sweet nostalgia love and friendship throws at you.

Now, it’s eleven o’clock in the evening on the nineteenth of October in 2017, and Dan has entered the bedroom with two generously filled wine glasses in hand.

Phil’s sat in the centre of the bed, his laptop the only light source amongst a scattering of poorly put up fairy lights that hang somewhat limply along the headboard. 

“Knock, knock,” Dan announces quietly. 

Phil glances up, a look of confusion quickly turning into an enormous grin. “Just what I need. How did you know?” he says.

Dan shrugs, sidling up next to him, legs crossed, and offers the wine glass to Phil’s waiting hand.

“Let’s call it boyfriend intuition,” he proposes. His free arm drapes across Phil’s shoulders, fingers playing idly with a loose thread on Phil’s t-shirt. “How’s it going?”

Phil shoves the laptop away and leans into Dan’s hold, head flopping onto his shoulder. “Video’s all done, ready to be uploaded tomorrow.”  

“Well done,” 

Phil brings the glass to his nose, sniffing cautiously. The aroma is delicious; cherry, raspberry, and a hint of aniseed. The scent is suspiciously similar to the special bottle they don’t tend to buy often.  

“I don’t even remember ordering this,” he says.

“That’s because I bought it earlier when you were napping like an old man,” Dan explains, patting Phil’s shoulder, “I figured it was a good day for bottle.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?” Phil asks, feigning innocence, coy smile on his face.

“Don’t play dumb with me. Every year you do the same thing,” Dan tries to sound exasperated but the grin on his face completely ruins the facade.

“And every year you tell me off for it and one year I genuinely might have forgotten,” Phil points out, sitting back up straight and taking a sip of the wine.

Dan snorts. “Fuck off. Eight years in a row and you’re doing just fine,”

Phil smiles at that. “Eight years. That’s a long time.”

“You say that every year, too,”

“Well it is! It’s a perfectly valid fact!”

“I know, I know,” Dan snickers, “I just like winding you up. That’s another thing that’s not gotten old these past eight years.”

“Tell me about it,” he pouts, “Constantly cruel to me.”

Dan makes a face. “Oh yes, the fifty quid wine I’ve bought tonight is a true symbol of the cruel life I subject you to,” 

“You’re alright, I suppose. You’ve been kind of nice to keep for the last eight years.” 

“Am I a pet, now?”

“Fully house trained, stays on their side of the bed and hates going outside. Sounds like the perfect pet to me,” Phil says and lapses into giggles, tongue poking between his teeth and all. 

“God I’m like a fucking sad chihuahua or something,”

Phil shakes his head, the ghost of his laugh still on his face in the crinkles by his eyes, “More like a loyal labradoodle. Mainly because of the curls.”

Dan sighs, taking a large gulp of his wine. His eyes sweep the room.  _ Their  _ room. Moon mirror and all. It’s a serene sort of feeling. Eight years since his heart was beating so fast he thought it would come out of his chest. Eight years since his eyes scoured the busy train station only to land on the black, shaggy mop of hair and friendly blue eyes that belonged to Phil. Eight years since he started to learn how to trust someone and remembered how it felt to have someone care for him again. 

He cradles the glass in his hand, eyes fixed on the dark liquid, thoughts everywhere.

“Did you ever imagine it’d come to this?”

‘What do you mean?” 

“This. Sat in our third apartment, drinking fifty pound wine, in a bedroom we both sleep in with all these memories and trinkets sat on bookcases and chests of drawers we built together. Us.”

Phil doesn’t respond straight away. His expression is what Dan can only describe as pensive, reflective. He’s staring right at Dan like he has done for the past eight years of their life but it’s different. Phil’s thinking of how this guy he loves is quite simply his entire world, but Dan would only laugh and call him a soppy git if he said it aloud, so he uses the glance instead to convey the message. It’s the way Dan’s hint of a dimple appears that Phil knows he understands.

Phil answers, his tone matter-of-fact. “I always wanted you. I didn’t know about the rest of this. But you? I hoped more than imagined. The rest of it is a bonus.” 

“I think the wine’s gone to your head already,” Dan replies, all sense of trying to mock Phil obliterated by the blush on his face and uncontainable smile.

“You love me,” Phil says, sing-song like and teasing.

Dan can only be honest. “I really fucking do, a hell of a lot. It might be a bit of a problem, actually.” 

Phil hugs his arm around Dan’s waist and pulls him closer, pressing a kiss to his curls. “I think we did pretty well these past eight years, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I think we did.”

There’s that pool of warmth again in Phil’s stomach. Suddenly he’s transported there again, to the train station. Hands tight around a flannel shirt, the same amber and vanilla scent, even longer limbs and heart doing this weird somersault thing that makes him need another sip of wine.

Perhaps that feeling never does go away and perhaps satisfaction is another way to describe total and complete happiness that he only dreamed of having once upon a time. 

“To us,” Dan says, wine glass raised. 

Phil raises his own and clinks it with Dan’s in one delicate chime.

“To us.”

\- Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this cute little thing. It was short and sweet but I really wanted to write something to commemorate the occasion.
> 
> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed, thank you!!!


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